Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Too Much of a Good Thing?	By : Scienceteacher Category: Transformers > G1 > Het - M/F Views: 1741 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Do not own the Transformers, am not making anything from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Too Much of a Good Thing?
- 1
Too Much of a Good thing?**

**Universe G1**

With a grunt, Optimus felt his systems reboot one-by-one. A lazy smirk crossed his bared face as he stretched languidly. It had been a wonderful tryst. A glorious tryst! A sense of masculine pride flowed over him. Yes, the old bot still had it in him indeed!

His optics brightened as he activated them and his quarters came into focus again. A weight pressed into him, warmth flowing through his armor informed him of its source. “Ah, Elita One….” he murmured as he threw an arm over her defragging form. Life was good.. Life was grand!

His systems finally initiated full activation. The old processors sifted through the incoming stream of data from his peripheral sensory network. Aligning… Reformatting… Analyzing again.. An ever-constant circle of computations which a mech got used to… A circle that, if broken, meant you were off lined.

One alarm went off in his primary meta. A system that should’ve been deactivated fully, was still fully online! His optics narrowed as he sent internal shutdown commands back down to the system. But resulting analysis again showed that the system was not complying with his commands. For several astrominutes he lay there, sending and resending the shutdown commands.

It was no use. System was ignoring central commands…

With a disgusted snort, Prime forced his linkages and servos to move. With many whirs and whines, he sat up and swung his lower legs over the side of the berth. Shaking the overload-induced fog from his primary meta, he focused his optics down on the portion of his chassis that was refusing central commands to shut down.

Damn thing was still pressurized…

Dratted thing was standing straight up in all its magnificent glory…

The big mech looked at his cable, which he could swear was giving him a one-optic’d wink right back. Why was it that when he needed the thing to activate – it wouldn’t. And now that its function had been completed – the damn thing wouldn’t go down! He glanced back at his still-defragging mate, thankful that she wasn’t activating anytime soon. He had to get this problem under control!

He tried to manually deflate the pressure. A hissing filled the quiet room as his cable finally went limp. Optimus breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps this time it wouldn’t give him a meta-ache? Removing his hand from the release valve, he moved to press the button to manually retract his now-limp member. But even before he pushed that button, his cable swelled back up and snapped back to stiff attention with a pop…

“Damn thing!” he muttered under his breath.

An astrohour later and twenty manual-deflate-and-attempted-retractions later, Optimus looked on in dismay as the darned thing again pressurized. Looked like it was going to be a rather long battle with it this time! He just prayed that the alarms didn’t go off anytime soon. Then he’d be running into battle with far more than his gun drawn. Though perhaps it’d impress ol’ Megs enough that he’d just retreat without a single shot fired?

Prime chuckled at his own thoughts. It was highly entertaining to believe that Megatron was having similar issues with his aging chassis. Surely, Prime wasn’t the only one?

With a disgusted sigh, Optimus looked at the time that had passed since he and Elita had gotten all hot-and-bothered. Drat! Over three astro-hours already. He stared down at the one-optic’d bandit who was stubbornly staring back up at him. If there was one thing that he didn’t want to deal with – it was Elita waking up and seeing the evidence of the ‘assistance’ that Prime had needed to use.

Now just what had that freagin’ commercial said about length of time?!? Prime searched back through his memory banks. Oh yea, that was it. ‘If your crankcase remains in an open, extended position for a period exceeding four astrohours, seek medical attention immediately.’

He groaned at that prospect. Why had he thought that new Viagra program was worth a try? – well because he knew Elita was getting frustrated with him, that’s why! That’s why any self respecting mech would try the damned thing isn’t it?!? Well, except for the twins, and maybe Jazz too. They’d all try it – just so they could run around base and slag each other silly! Maybe he should add Mirage, Tracks and the entire Aerialbot gestalt to that list while he was at it…

But him? No, no one would even suspect he’d try it for those reasons. In fact, no one would suspect him of ever being THAT desperate! Optimus drummed his digits on his leg armor. The one-optic’d bandit still standing tall and mocking him. So now what should he do?

He couldn’t just waltz through the base with his crankcase hanging open like this. Knowing the members of his troops, he’d have every single joker bending over and making crude suggestive jokes. Heck, even old Ironhide was bound to make a comparison between his jack and something or another! No, that was most definitely NOT an option!

He sure as hell was not going to com Ratchet to come over and help. First of all, Elita would definitely wake up when the cranky old medic came in and whacked him over the helm with a wrench for daring to try that Viagra program. If that didn’t happen, Prime knew that either Jazz or Blaster would most likely be scanning the frequencies. Primus! The rumors and jokes that would ensue!!! He cringed to even contemplate that one!
No, he had to get to Ratchet’s med bay with his dignity still intact. He could handle a wrench to the helm, as long as no one else was in the know! But how?

He scanned his quarters with his optics. Searching for something – ANYTHING – that he could hold in front of himself to hide his little… He looked down… No BIG – problem! When he looked up it was like an angel from Primus himself had come down – for the empty box from his new energon-storage system was sitting in the corner..

Thanking himself for being too lazy to break it down and transport it to the recycling center, Optimus strode over to it and looked it over. Sure enough, if he cut a hole right about here – he could stick his cable through it. That way, he’d just look like he was carrying a heavy box. No one would ever know…..

------

Optimus strode down the corridor, his arms filled with a huge box. It looked incredibly heavy, since he was resting it on his thighs a little.

Hearing the heavy clang of those pedes, Ironhide looked up from his desk. Just in time to see the big red mech stroll past it. Seeing the effort required, Ironhide just knew he needed some help. “Hey Prime, let me help ya there!” he said as he leapt up from his desk and trotted after him.

He’d no sooner set his hand on the top of the box, than Prime shrugged him off. “I’m fine Ironhide. Thanks for the offer,” he said without even breaking stride.

Ironhide looked at his back, a little confused. Prime never refused help like that. And just WHERE was he carrying that new energon storage unit? His quarters were the other direction. He trotted after him. “So where’re ya takin’ that? If it’s far ya can just put it in me an I’ll carry it.”

Optimus glanced back, not wanting to lie but realizing he had little choice in the matter. “To Ratchet,” he said evasively.

“Well that don’t make no sense, it can’t be broke, it ain’t even open!” Ironhide exclaimed in his southern-styled drawl.

Prime sighed in disgust. Ironhide was going to pester him until he was satisfied! “I’m giving it to him – ok? Now go back to your office!”

“Given’ it to him?” Ironhide was shocked. But the statement had the desired effect – he stopped following Prime. As the big mech disappeared around the corner, he picked his jaw off the ground. Those units were expensive! Why would Prime buy Ratchet one… Unless?????? Ironhide smacked himself in the helm. He should have known!

-----

Without even knocking, Optimus used his override code and marched straight into the repair bay. He didn’t even blink an optic cover as he marched right past Wheeljack and Ratchet.

“Ngggggg, Mmmmmm, What in the frag?!?!” Wheeljack looked up, his expression of pleasure now turned into one of total shock.

Ratchet stopped his thrusts, his optics narrowing as he glared at Prime. Of all mechs to come barging in! Prime KNEW better! “You’d better be heavily damaged. Though you don’t appear to be,” he growled. His tone indicating that he might consider inflicting the damage himself. He pulled out of Wheeljack. And not even bothering to cover his own taunt cable, he turned and picked up a wrench. More than ready to chase the bigger mech out of the repair bay…

Optimus plopped himself down on an exam table. “I’ve got a bit of an issue myself,” he said. Pulling off the empty box, he showed the two medics his ‘issue’.

“Freagin’ Viagra program huh?” Wheeljack snickered. It was the fifth case of this they’d seen just this particular day cycle.

Optimus nodded. He noticed that Ratchet had marched over to his tool chest and was pulling out some of his biggest wrenches. “What are you going to do with those?” he asked.

Ratchet turned and gave him a sadistic smirk. “We’ve found that the sting from the heavier ones on the helm, deflates the damned things the fastest…….”
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Too Much of a Good Thing?